


Gambit

by lizthefangirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, F/M, Josephine Lightbourne Possessing Clarke Griffin, Spec, Speculation, The 100 (TV) Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 05:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizthefangirl/pseuds/lizthefangirl
Summary: Post 6.05. Josephine uses a grieving Bellamy to her advantage.





	Gambit

**gambit** _ **(**_ noun):

( _in chess) an opening in which a player makes a sacrifice, typically of a pawn, for the sake of some compensating advantage._

 

* * *

 

The universe was wide and endless. And so very small when it came to Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin.

He was unable to move. Flat on his back, his vision was still blurred by tears. He felt them dripping down his jaw, soaking his collar. His heart still stuttered with shock. And the pain in his chest—it was an old wound, being savagely torn open. 

Clarke was dead.

His ears rang as the statement ran on a loop in his brain. As he tried to cope with the insanity of it—the impossibility. The familiarity.

Had he been foolish, to take their time together for granted? Had he really believed so fully that they would have years together? The agony wracking him whispered that yes, he had. It was a concept that went against every survival instinct, every caution instilled. But he'd genuinely believed it. He hadn't dared for a second to believe she was anything but safe and alive. 

 _Clarke was dead_.

It didn't happen thousands of miles away. From what he could gather in his racing mind, it had happened sometime in the night. Less than a mile away—maybe even a few hundred meters away. Where had he been? In that bar with Echo? Surely Cillian was dead. What did he have to do with this? Did he betray her after he took her to bed? He would have been the first for her, in so long. Clarke had been vulnerable, she'd let herself be vulnerable. . . The idea of her being taken advantage of revolted him, enraged him—

The blank look on her face when he'd spoken to her in Trig. He was sure he'd have nightmares about her expression. Not  _her_ expression—another's, wearing her features.

She would be as disgusted by these "hosts" as he was. She sure as hell hadn't been willing to die. He was certain of that. 

She was murdered. She was  _murdered_ , right in front of his face. 

After a hundred years asleep. Then what—four, five more sleeps? She was awake and she was gone, just like that. 

Josephine Lightbourne. He wasn't sure how, exactly, for there seemed to be certain technicalities involved—but she would not live. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill every person involved in this.

 _Heart over head_. Jordan had said he preferred that version of him. 

His heart was dead. 

 

Josephine sauntered into the room, gusting a sigh. She propped herself against a wall, arms crossed. "God, Clarke was so  _uptight_. I hate it."

Bellamy was regaining sensation in his limbs, almost fully now, but not enough to rise. His throat was also tickling, his vocal chords. . .

Josephine scrutinized him on the floor, cocking her head. This was her true countenance, then, not that her performance had been perfect to begin with. "How are we doing?"

 _You're going to die,_ he thought at her.

She smiled blandly, as if she understood. His stomach turned. "Thrilled to have John Murphy aboard. Nice to see one of your people is reasonable."

He recalled the glint in his eye at the word _immortal_ earlier, and his blood heated. Damned _cockroach—_

"I know, I know, you're gonna go strangle him when you can feel your legs again. Or you would, if I didn't have something very important to you."

She gave a little swishing gesture about herself. "I know you have at least one more host with you—that kid. If you want Clarke's body cut into ribbons, go ahead and tell the others about this. Really." 

He channelled every word of profanity he knew in her direction. 

"What  _did_ you say to me in that language of yours—Trig, was it? As in mathematics? No, probably not. . ." She wrinkled her nose, leaning down. "It wasn't a love confession, was it?"

She was playing with him, a cat batting at a dying mouse. She grinned. "John says you're quite chummy with her. Had some real ups and downs. But still. . . How did he put it?  _Stupidly devoted?_ "

He was definitely going to strangle Murphy. Absolutely. One-hundred percent. 

"Here's the good news, Bellamy: If I heard John right, Nightblood, as you call it, can be  _created_ in a lab setting. I have to say that's. . . quite remarkable. Maybe I haven't given you people enough credit." Josephine casually kicked him in the shin, not hard—as if he were a piece of furniture. "And even better? You have what, a few _hundred_ hosts on ice? Medical history stored in an organized database? Honestly, you've done the work for me."

Or maybe he'd try drowning Murphy again.

His fingers actually twitched when he tried to clench them into a fist. She noticed. "There, there. If you don't mind, I want to really lay it out for you before you try anything, okay?"

Again, she reminded him of a feline as she stretched hugely, then slid down onto the floor to sit with him. As she spoke, she walked up his arm with two fingers: "I will kill every single person in your group if you try anything behind my back. I'll start with your girlfriend. I will make sure you watch all of it. And then when I'm done, I will cut Clarke's throat with her own hands. Or I'll roast her alive—you get the picture. I will give my family bodies and we will continue to live, because we are biologically superior. The rest simply should not exist. And you," she said, tapping him on the nose, "are going to help me get what I need. I might reward you with a transfusion at the end, if you behave."

" _Dead."_ It was hardly more than a rasp. " _You're dead."_

"I'm really not, though," she said coolly. "Clarke is."

And just because she could, she tenderly brushed his bottom lip with her thumb. Hot, furious tears blinded him. 

 "Your job is to make sure the others suspect nothing," she told him. Her fingers traced his cheekbone; it was like being burned. "You will make excuses for me when I make a mistake. You will _convince_ them I am Clarke. Because from what I can tell, you know her better than just about anyone. Even her own mother. And I get the feeling people are used to you justifying her actions. Change their minds, Bellamy. It's the only way to save them."

As she spoke, his muscles were trembling, spasming slightly—tensing and releasing rapidly. And suddenly he was gritting his teeth, then—

He grabbed her wrist,  _hard_. His fingers dug into her skin. 

She didn't so much as wince. "Bellamy."

He stared in horror as she sharply twisted her own arm—a muffled  _crack—_

He wrenched his hand back, watching violet bloom across her skin. "What did you do?" he choked. "What the  _hell did you do—?"_

"You know what it feels like to be chucked into a body that rejects you?" She examined her wrist in the dim light. "You cannot fathom that pain, but I can. And this? This is not pain."

He had mutely sat up on his elbows, the tremors no longer due to the paralytic serum. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

"Get yourself together before you go back to the others. And one last thing." She stood, frowning a bit at her injury before tugging her sleeve down. "I don't bluff, Bellamy Blake."

He had never felt so powerless in his life as he watched her—the woman he had always seen as his mirror, the head to his heart, even after all this time—simply walk away from him. His brain still couldn't fully register that Clarke was not  _Clarke_. He knew that he'd feel that gaping wound continue to fester every time she entered the room, spoke, smiled. And as for how to hide it from the others. . .

He prayed they would detect the differences. Gaia likely would soon enough, and Madi—surely Madi would question. . . 

He buried his face in his hands, reeling.

 _You're my family too, Bellamy._  

She'd said it with such conviction.

_I lost sight of that—_

Her sight was taken from her.

 _—but I promise I will_ _never_ _forget it again._

Her memory was taken from her.

_You're too important to me._

Already, his grief was hardening into a calculating calm. Had it been his body, his mind taken, Clarke would refuse to give up on him. She'd fight to get him back, if there was even a glimmer of possibility in doing so. Maybe there was a way: Priya had spoken for Delilah, as if she were somewhere in her head. Had it been a trick? 

He would need to have a word with her about that. If not him, then—

Someone rapped on the door. "Bellamy, you in there?" Jordan called. "The girls are back, we're having a meeting about the radiation shield. . . You all right?" 

He took a deep breath, clearing his throat. "Yeah—I'm good. I accidentally I fell asleep. Been a long day, you know." He wiped his face on his sleeve, regained his balance, and opened the door. 

Jordan clapped him on the shoulder, partial understanding limning his face. "We're gonna figure this out." 

Josephine played games. That much he knew. Given what they'd discovered about the hosts, he would have had to tread carefully—and that was before he knew what they'd done to Clarke. If anything, he told himself, this was simply another layer to their original plan. It had to be, if he was to function at all. 

So he would observe and listen, like any spy would. And when the moment was right, he would out-maneuver her. "I know we will." he agreed.

When he entered the room with the others, he caught Josephine's eye as Echo wrapped around him in greeting. _Hold on_ _, Clarke,_ he thought.  _I'm coming for you._

She smiled. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Eliza mentioned in an interview that Josephine is interested in "toying with" Bellamy and using him to her advantage. So I wanted to imagine what that's going to look like.
> 
> Clearly I'm getting some mileage from these episodes. I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for reading, comments mean the world. -Liz.xx


End file.
